


raise your glass

by ndnickerson



Category: Nancy Drew - Carolyn Keene
Genre: Alternate Canon, Chance Meetings, Desire, Dominance, F/M, Nancy Drew Files, Post-Break Up, Reconciliation Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 07:04:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3318434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nancy is about five seconds away from making a drunk dial that will probably change her life, when fate steps in. (Set after Files 8, but ignores everything that happens after that book.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	raise your glass

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlemsmessy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemsmessy/gifts).



> This is a birthday fic for littlemsmessy. Miss you, honey.

Nancy was on her fourth drink of the night—this one a mai tai—when she felt it.

The bar was crowded and _so loud_ , so fucking loud. Nancy had spent a long time on her makeup, giving herself a dramatic smoky eye complete with dark liner and three coats of mascara. Her hair was tousled and fell down to her shoulder blades in big perfect curls. The neckline of her tiered green dress plunged between her breasts, and her arms were bare, a line of bangles jangling against her wrist every time she reached for her glass. She was pretty sure she looked fantastic. Bess had said she did. George had said she did too.

Her most recent case had fucking _sucked_. She had found evidence that a spoiled, entitled millionaire had been driving drunk when he had run another car off the road. He had sent the other car into the ocean on the thin side of morning, a few hours after midnight, on a deserted stretch of highway. He had left the scene, and later claimed that he had no idea about what had happened. He had managed to talk a doctor into backing up his version of the story, along with what had likely been a back-dated prescription to explain some kind of adverse reaction that would absolve him of responsibility.

It didn't make the couple in the other car any less dead. And Nancy had done absolutely everything she could to catch him, to find damning evidence, to put him away for good—but she hadn't succeeded.

And, to think, when she had first been investigating the case and his alibi had seemed so ironclad, she had locked gazes with him and thought he was hot, even let him make some moves on her...

She shuddered, raising her glass again and surveying the muddy-orange liquid at the bottom of the glass. Maybe two inches were left, including the ice.

She and her friends had a joke. Nancy could only drink so much before she began to think about it, and then casually mention it, or as casually as she could manage while so intoxicated. In a way he was never far from her mind, but once her inhibitions were lowered to a certain level...

For years, Nancy had thought that she and Ned would be together forever. For years, they had been together and happy. Then they had broken up, one awful night, when he had told her that he thought they should take a break and see other people, see if they could be happy apart. She had known he was unhappy, especially when she had begun to suspect that his best friend had been involved with a series of sabotage incidents impacting the Emerson basketball team and consequently Ned's career...

For so long after that, Nancy had wrestled with herself. Ultimately, Ned's best friend _had_ been involved with the sabotage, but he hadn't been the mastermind, only a reluctant pawn. Nancy had beaten herself up over the way she had handled her suspicion and her treatment of him; for a while afterward, Nancy had even began to doubt whether she should continue her career, especially if it could hurt someone she loved so much.

She had missed Ned so, so much that she had felt like her heart was actually, truly broken. She had fought the persistent impulse to call him and beg him to give her another chance, because if he was happy with someone else, he deserved it. She loved him and she missed him more than she could ever say, but she wanted him to be happy. If he couldn't find that happiness with her, then they shouldn't be together.

Bess had insisted that Nancy just needed to give Ned some time and space, and then call him and tell him that she was miserable without him and desperate for just one more chance with him. George said that Nancy didn't need him or anyone else, and if he wanted her back, _he_ could be the one to swallow his pride and come to her.

Nancy filled her time by accepting cases, the more distant the better. She wanted to spend time out of Illinois. She wanted to stay away from everything that reminded her of him, or of their relationship, and almost everything that was familiar did that. And then she had a case like this one, and she just wanted to drink until she felt better.

But part of feeling better also meant reaching this point, a point when she just wanted _him_ again. She just wanted to hear his voice, to feel his arms around her, to know that he had forgiven her and he loved her still and he was ready to try again. That he was miserable without her, that he just needed to see how she had changed.

It wasn't as though she had just pined away for him, though. She had dated a string of guys, some longer than others, some that had almost been serious. She had slept with two of them, when she had been angry and indignant, when she had wanted to make sure that he would never take her back, that she would never be weak enough to want it. But it hadn't diminished her feelings for him, not at all. In fact, she had found it so hard not to regret those two nights. She didn't keep in touch with either of them now, and she missed Ned more than ever.

She knew that he had graduated. She knew that he might stay at Emerson for grad school, or come to Chicago, or go anywhere; he was incredibly smart and talented, and he could probably write his own ticket. She could tell herself that she had only held him back, but she still, so selfishly, wished that they had never split up.

"Smile!" Bess wrapped her arm around Nancy's shoulders and held up her phone, and Nancy put an obedient grin on her face as Bess snapped a photo. "You doing okay, sweetie?"

Nancy nodded slowly, trying to hold it back and not say anything. Just keep it back. Nothing had changed, really. Of course she kind of hoped that Ned would see that photo on Bess's Facebook once she posted it—which was usually about twelve seconds after she took a selfie—and feel the same longing for her that she did for him.

It just—Nancy finished the rest of her drink as Bess pointed out a cluster of guys across the room, sleeves rolled up, fitted suit vests and skinny jeans, and talked about going over to introduce herself—it was just that sometimes, some nights, like tonight, it felt so close. She wanted to take out her phone and... and just think about it. Maybe pull up his contact information and just look at it. It didn't mean she would do anything.

God, she missed him. She missed him so much her body seemed to vibrate with longing. She knew that part of it was the liquor, but it just seemed to strip away all the layers she had used to cover it, all the protests and denial. So she missed him. They had been so good together and it just felt _wrong_ to be apart.

The edges of the bar, at the bar top and the edges of the room, were crowded with drinking people; the middle was taken up by couples and groups dancing to the pounding beat. It was hard to hear Bess when she spoke, and it was almost hard to hear herself think.

Nancy knew she didn't need another drink. She felt a little dizzy, and if she wasn't careful—oh, fuck it, _fuck it,_ she was too far gone. It was no crime to be honest.

She'd regret it, she knew, but she could just check his Facebook...

Nancy had her phone in her hand as she headed toward the bar, swaying and twisting her way through the mass of dancing people around her, and she couldn't help laughing a little. She needed some water, and... maybe if she could just hold out for five minutes, the _need_ to do something she would likely regret might pass, and—

And a shiver rippled down her spine as her stomach turned over. She looked up from her phone without quite knowing why. God, she would probably see a photo of him on Facebook with someone else and end the night a sobbing mess on Bess's couch, and...

Ned was standing about twenty feet away from her, just turning away from someone, grinning, mid-word, and their eyes met.

_no it can't be_

_OH SHIT_

_is my eyeliner smeared all over my face shit DAMMIT_

_it can't be him i just want to see him too much i'm hallucinating SHIT_

Nancy's mouth opened, but nothing came out, and he turned and someone _walked between them_ so she couldn't see him for a moment. But it couldn't be him. Just couldn't. They were in Chicago but it would just be insane for _him_ to be here, like she had just _known_ , like that insistent thrumming ache had been thanks to his proximity.

It didn't even occur to her that _maybe_ she should change course and _not_ walk straight toward the guy who almost certainly couldn't be Ned Nickerson, not until she was a foot away from him and oh, oh shit it most certainly _was_ Ned Nickerson, in the flesh. And he didn't look dejected or hang-dog, oh no, he looked fucking _gorgeous_. His dark hair was neatly trimmed and he had _just_ the right level of stubble to look incredibly fucking hot, the sleeves of his button-down were rolled up and the first two buttons of his shirt were undone. He was solid and tall and undeniably masculine and in the time they had spent apart, that magnetic pull she felt to him hadn't lessened at all. If anything, it felt stronger.

God. She looked at him and she felt dizzy with longing, and a desperation that would eat her alive later. She needed to talk to him, to tell him—

She had no fucking idea what to say, because what she said needed to be _perfect_ and all that was in her head was just a keening wail of fear and cautious joy. She couldn't waste this chance. She couldn't.

_oh shit what if he's HERE WITH SOMEONE_

She felt her cheeks flush and turned toward the bar, her mouth dry. Then Ned turned back toward her and she looked up at him and somehow managed to put a polite smile on her face.

"Nan, hey."

She couldn't _hear_ him; she couldn't hear anything. She just read his lips and his expression and inclined her head, her smile still in place. "Hey," she replied, her voice a scarce whisper, as the rest of it roared silently through her. _Hey can't believe you're here can't fucking believe oh my God PLEASE please you look so good and I haven't been the same since we broke up and PLEASE_

Ned indicated the dancing groups around him with the tilt of his head and an upward quirk of his eyebrows.

She took a breath and nodded.

He reached for her hand and her heart was in her throat when his skin touched hers. She let him guide her to a _slightly_ less crowded and loud part of the dance floor, and Nancy saw Bess on the way. Her friend's eyes were wide, her mouth a rounded o of surprise. Nancy just gave her a small smile and a little shrug.

"How've you been?" She had to lean in close to him to hear his voice at all. God. His full lips looked so incredibly kissable.

_Miserable. Awful. Missing you._ "Good. You? Just graduated?"

He nodded. "You look good."

She couldn't help smiling. "You look good too."

He grinned, and when the next song began, she tossed her hair back and raised her arms. "I love this song."

"I know you do." He moved closer to her and put his hands on her hips, and her heart was so beautifully light as she gazed up at him. "God, you look so gorgeous."

She swung her hips a little closer to his, and her nipples tightened, a flush rising in her cheeks when he drew his fingertips up her sides, glancing lightly up her bare arms. "You do too," she told him. "I—I miss you so much. Ned, I'm so sorry."

He searched her eyes. "I've missed you too."

Then he leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear, and he slid his large warm palms down to her hips. He drew closer to him, and her lashes fluttered down as his breath touched her skin. "Are you happier, now?"

"Sometimes." She closed her eyes, her body swaying to the music, and his body radiated warmth; she could smell his aftershave and soap and it was so familiar that she hurt. "Most of the time, no."

"Do you know how many times I told myself not to call you..."

"So many fucking times," she said. "If you felt the same way I did."

He sighed. "You smell good," he murmured, and she knew that he was drunk too, but she didn't care. His lips brushed her neck. "God. I can't believe you're here."

"Me either." She arched her spine when he cupped her hips and they came so, so fucking close to just grinding together, out on the dance floor. Then she brushed her lips against his ear, shuddering with anticipation, her heart giving one hard beat before she whispered it.

"I want you so much."

The bar had individual bathrooms, she had discovered half an hour earlier. She wondered if he knew that—and if he would take advantage of it.

He picked her up and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. She didn't want to let him go, not now, not ever again. The longer she was in contact with him—oh _God_ , she just couldn't. She just couldn't.

"Nan," he whispered, and she looked straight into his dark eyes. She felt completely spellbound. Oh, how she had longed for this, imagined it so many times, and now he was _here_.

With all her heart, she wanted this to be the last night she felt this emptiness. She just wanted to be _good_ again.

He was holding her against him, her feet off the floor and her body pressed tight to his. He was standing still in the middle of a riotous, chaotic dance floor, the crowd pressed tight and frenetic around them, and she couldn't care less; she couldn't see or feel anything beyond him. Her heart was beating so fast as she searched his eyes.

She had discovered who she was without him, and while she knew that she was all right, that her broken heart would heal eventually, she couldn't deny that she wanted him. She had a feeling that even if they both moved on, if they married other people, she would always love him. Always. And being in his arms... God, it felt like coming home.

He leaned in and she met his kiss, brushed her lips against his, then kissed him slowly, deeply, running her fingers through his hair. He held her and kissed her in return, and when they broke the kiss she felt her chest constrict in something that was almost like a sob. She hadn't fully realized how much she missed him until this moment.

Then he gently lowered her to her feet again, and when he reached for her hand she didn't follow him; she kept beside him, twisting and pushing through the crowd to get to the bathroom. The alcove leading to the restrooms was crowded with people waiting.

"I—Nan, when we broke up—"

"I know, and I'm so sorry," she said, as they shuffled with the crowd when it moved forward. "I know I handled it badly. I should have listened to you. I've had a lot of time to think about it and I'm sorry. But, Ned—" She swallowed hard. "The way you handled it wasn't great either..."

And to her surprise, instead of becoming defensive or angry, he just nodded. "I know," he said. "And I'm sorry too, that's what I was going to tell you. I... I was hurt and upset and a lot of things. I couldn't believe that Mike was involved, and it was easier to be mad at you, even though it wasn't your fault and you _were_ doing your job. But, more than that..." He sighed, and she tilted her head a little more; they were having to speak directly into each other's ears, to be heard over the pounding music. "I guess I felt like I was always going to be a lower priority in your life than you were in mine. You... you were everything to me..."

"And you were everything to me," she told him. "And if you... if you'd just given me a chance, Ned, I would have shown you. But I thought—I thought that you were happier without me..."

He squeezed her hand, and she shivered when his lips brushed her ear, as they shuffled forward with the rest of the waiting people and reached the front of the line. "And I thought you'd be happier with someone who didn't need as much of you as I do," he told her. "Nan, I need all of you, I always have. I don't mean that I can't be away from you—it's just that I feel like there was so much of your life that you just shut me out of..."

She ran her fingers through his hair and pulled her down to him, nuzzling against him as she murmured into his ear. "Not anymore," she said. "If you... if we can try again, then not anymore. I couldn't bear it."

"Then..." He nipped at her ear, biting the skin gently, and she shuddered. "I guess maybe this isn't the most romantic way for tonight to go..."

Then the next bathroom was unoccupied, and she squeezed his hand and stepped forward. "But I don't want to wait," she told him, glancing up and into his eyes.

She knew that what they were doing had probably earned them a few dirty glances, but she didn't care. As soon as Ned had locked the door behind them, he turned and swept her up, pinning her to the wall, his hips snug against hers. She gazed into his dark eyes, a grin curving her lips.

"Tell me this wasn't the only thing you missed."

"Fucking a smokin' hot, beautiful woman against the wall in a bar bathroom while we're both more than a little drunk?" She shuddered, arching when he slid his hands under her dress and caressed her pert ass over her panties, then ran his fingertip back and forth in light teasing strokes over the fabric covering the entrance of her sex. "I missed all of you, Nan. Your sweet lips and smartass mouth and the way those gorgeous breasts fit in my palms."

She gazed up at him. He pushed the neckline of her dress aside, and she shivered when he bared her breast, her nipple already hard and peaked. "I wish you'd called," she moaned softly. "I wish _I'd_ called..."

He nodded. "But we're here," he murmured, and leaned down.

She met his kiss and shifted her weight so she could shove the sides of her panties down; Ned was gently squeezing her breast through her dress, and when he realized what she was doing, he moved back so she could push her panties down. She stepped out of them, shoving them into his jeans pocket and giving him a wicked grin before she tipped her chin up again. He kissed her and she unfastened his fly, groaning against his mouth when she felt his erection straining against the fabric.

"You really _did_ miss me," she teased him quietly.

"And was this the only thing _you_ missed?"

"Being fucked by a smokin' hot, incredibly handsome man against the wall in a bar bathroom while we're both tipsy? Mmm." She peered at him through her lashes. "I missed _all_ of you—and I swear to you I didn't know what it felt like to lose my heart, until I lost you. I don't like who I am without you, Ned."

"And the only way I could be happy without you, is if I had never known you," he murmured, and kissed her again.

She had felt other men's hands on her; she arched to grind against him, to press herself against his touch as he stroked his thumb back and forth over her firm nipple. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, but it wasn't enough. Then he boosted her and helped her move so her feet were up at his shoulders. She reached behind her and propped the heels of her hands against the chair railing, acutely aware of how defenseless and exposed she was to him. She kept one palm behind her to support her weight as she used the other to flick the front closure of her bra open. As the cups sprang apart, Ned groaned his approval, moving the fabric of her dress aside to bare both her breasts.

"God," he muttered. "You are so, _so_ fucking sexy."

"So are you," she murmured. "Got a condom, big boy?"

"Of course." He cupped both her breasts, stroking both nipples simultaneously as his hips slowly pressed and ground against hers. Only the thin fabric of his underwear was between them, and she groaned at the contact. "But I want you _so wet,_ beautiful. We have time."

She chuckled. "We have a _lot_ of time to make up for, Nickerson."

He nodded and rolled her nipples between his pressed fingers, and she whined and rolled her hips. "And it's gonna involve a hotel room," he promised her. "As soon as we can get a taxi. I mean—if that works for you..."

She released a genuine laugh, gazing up into his eyes. "Very much," she told him with a nod. "Very fucking much. As long as we can make a stop at a drugstore on the way—although I might not let you out of that room until we run out of condoms."

Ned grinned. "That is _exactly_ what I like to hear."

She arched again when he slid his hand between them and found her clit; her lips parted and she tipped her head back with a low moan. "Fuck," she growled. "Oh, _yessss_..."

He leaned down, still idly stroking one nipple as he stroked her clit with his other thumb, and she writhed as he nuzzled and sucked against the side of her neck. "Here," he growled, and she tensed, opening her legs a little more as he curved his fingers down to rub against her inner lips. " _Mmmmmm._ "

She moved her head to kiss him, and when Ned's tongue plunged into her mouth she reached down and parted the lips of her sex with her thumbs, catching her breath when Ned's fingers slipped between and against her slick entrance. He slowly worked his index finger inside her, and she shuddered, moving her hands to his waistband. His jeans were already open, and she hooked her thumbs beneath his waistband, freeing his cock.

Ned stroked his tongue against hers one last time, then pulled back with a warning growl. "My hands seem to be a little occupied," he murmured against her mouth. "How about you wrap it up, sexy, if you want me to get this started."

"Oh, I think it's started," she murmured, and kissed him as she worked his wallet out of his pocket. She found the condom tucked into his billfold and returned it to him, then ripped open the foil packet. "Mmm. My favorite."

He grinned and gave her another nipping kiss, and she gasped, whimpering as he pulled his index finger out of her and began to work it and his middle finger back inside her. "God, baby. So, so fucking—"

"Right," she gasped out. "So fucking right."

She shivered in anticipation as she rolled the condom onto his erection; he kissed her bruising-hard, and he slid his fingers out of her, rubbing the slick evidence of her arousal over the condom, rubbing his other thumb against her nipple again. He moved his cock into place and she shivered again, her tongue stroking against his. "I'm going to ride all the skin off your fucking cock," she gasped when their kiss broke.

"Can't wait," he growled, and then he thrust into her, in one rough, claiming movement. She cried out and he grabbed her hands, pinning them above her head, using his other hand to continue stroking her clit as he moved fully inside her.

"Ngh—ohhhhh," she moaned, arching her spine. " _Fuck._ "

"Yes," he teased her, and moved back for another thrust.

He fucked her with long rough thrusts, until they both glowed with exertion; he clamped his mouth over hers, stifling her cries and groans, and she began to rock her hips back and forth as his thumb's frantic strokes against her clit made her tremble with arousal. Her nipples brushed against the front of his shirt and oh, oh _fuck_ , she wanted to rip his shirt open, but he had her hands pinned over her head. She couldn't do anything. Thanks to the way he had her pinned and his superior weight and strength, she was entirely in his control.

And she fucking _loved_ it.

She could feel, could _hear_ how wet she was as he plunged into her over and over again, and when she finally succeeded in pulling her hands from beneath his grip, she grabbed the fabric of his shirt in her fists and tugged, releasing a loud shivering cry when he nipped at her neck. "Oh God oh _God_ ," she sobbed, and it had been so long and she was tender and tight and he was _so big_ , so gloriously long and thick and _perfect_ inside her.

"Yes," she gasped. "Oh my God, oh _yes_..."

"Fuck," he gasped. "Fuck, _Nan_. You feel so good..."

She tensed, crying out at the deepest point of his next thrust, when he had completely filled her up and he was swirling his wet thumb around her clit. "Oh fuck I love you I love you oh _fuck_..."

"Love you too," he gasped. "Always have, baby, _always_..."

The tension of her orgasm curled tight in her belly and she began to jerk against him, her cries so high they were almost silent. She tipped her head back, straining, her sex so slick and tight as she pulsed around him, the ribbed condom teasing her sensitive inner flesh. He kissed her again and she was powerless, liquid and sobbing, moving against him and with him, point and counterpoint, perfect and broken and _yes_.

When she came he came with her, still stroking her clit, and her heart was beating _so, so_ hard. He pressed her hard against the wall, his hips flush against her, and from the angle of her hips and legs he was so tight inside her. She dragged her nails against his shoulder blades, through his shirt, and nipped at his lower lip as she shuddered at the intensity of her pleasure. He slumped against her, still buried inside her, still pinning her against the wall, and she clung to him and quivered with the aftershocks.

"You love me too," she gasped.

"Mmm-hmm." He nuzzled against her neck. "Never doubt it, baby. Never again."

They stayed locked that way for a long moment, until someone pounded on the door and called angrily through it. Nancy's legs were still weak as he slowly parted them and placed her gently on the floor in front of him; he stripped off the condom as she refastened her bra, adjusting her dress. She shivered when she wiped the traces of arousal from her inner thighs; then she spotted the lace trim of her cream silk panties poking out of his pocket.

He glanced down too, then up at her, raising his eyebrows. She reached over—but instead of plucking them out, she just pushed them down until they were out of sight. When he grinned, she batted her eyelashes.

"I was going to be dropping them as soon as we checked in somewhere anyway," she pointed out, fluffing her hair a few times before she turned back to him. "Shall we?"

He offered her his arm, and she looped hers through it. "Definitely," he replied. "Now, what was that, about riding the skin off my cock...?"

"You want me to take it easy, huh?"

He shook his head. "Bring it, beautiful," he growled as he unlocked the door and they stepped out, into the visceral pounding of the bass and the sea of shining, smiling faces.

And the emptiness was gone, and in its place she felt only boundless joy.


End file.
